Metamorphosis
by Lone Butterfly
Summary: Nick gets a visitor from Texas, and she's more than anyone bargined for. Watch out for Greg's evil genius laugh. [WIP]
1. The Arrival of AB

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI or any of the characters. Except Anabelle, and if CBS wants to borrow her I'm sure we can work out a deal.

A/N: So many thanks go out to **Drakien**, my beta, and the owner of the long-lost other half of my brain. You make this FUN! I heart you forever!

**XOX XOX XOX XOX XOX**

Nick and Warrick exited the crime lab, squinting at the bright sunlight.

"I think this is the part I hate most about overtime, not being able to get home before the sun gets high in the sky." Warrick grumbled.

"There's something to hate about overtime? I figure the bonus in our chec-"

Nick sentence was cut off by the tiny red Ford Ranger that screamed to a stop next to the two CSIs, causing him to take two steps back into Warrick. The window slowly rolled down revealing a very young looking auburn-haired girl in the driver's seat. She raised her sunglasses and leaned out the window.

"Nicky, darling, got an extra bed?" drawled the girl, in a perfect Texas accent.

Nick blinked twice than let out what Warrick could only later describe as a "rodeo whoop", and pointed to an empty parking space. He moved towards the truck and was met halfway by the girl that emerged. Warrick held back and got his first good look at the tiny Texan that was wrapped in Nick's arms, and hovering about two feet off the ground. She couldn't have been more than five foot two, although her boots gave her another three inches in height. She had incredibly long auburn hair, that was flashing with red and blond hi-lights in the sun It was pulled into high ponytail, but still fell to far past her shoulders. She was wearing very (very) low rise jeans that showed off a tiny tattoo on her lower back, because her button-up oxford was riding up from Nick's embrace. If he had to guess she was barely 17, and Warrick could not for the life of him figure out who she was.

Finally putting the girl on the ground, Nick turned to Warrick and made introductions. "Warrick, Anabelle Stokes, Anabelle, this is Warrick."

"I would have figured that out, he's black and he's hot," she said, giving Warrick a once over and a wink. "I mean really, Nicky, how many guys fitting his description are there at the Las Vegas Crime Lab?"

AB leaned around Nick and reached out to shake Warrick's hand. "I've heard so much about you, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. And please, call me AB."

Warrick took her proffered hand and shook it, replying "It's nice to meet you also, although I'm not quite sure who ya are, since Nick's never mentioned you."

"Never? Nicky, ashamed of me?" AB grinned as she punched him lightly on the arm.

"Okay, I'm going out on a limb here, but Nick's the baby of seven, so you're to young to be his sister, and if you're anywhere close to 17 you are way to old to be his long-lost daughter, so exactly how are you a Stokes?"

Nick grinned and kissed AB's forehead before answering. "This, my friend, is my actual niece; she's my oldest brother's daughter. I was four when she was born, making her not so much my niece as my oldest and best friend."

Warrick did a few quick calculations in his head and let out a whistle. "Girl, you are looking damn good for being almost 30!"

"Thank you, quite kindly, and now onto the business of why I'm here." AB turned to Nick, "I have been driving for 13 hours, and I want a bar and about six shots of tequila. But first I need a place to secure my weapon."

"Weapon?" Warrick questioned.

AB answered by walking back to the truck and pulling out a shoulder holster, sidearm still intact. She removed the handgun and snapped it into the holster on her waist. "Nick?" she asked.

"Gris won't have a problem, you got your papers?"

"Right here," she answered, picking up a plain envelope.

"Again, I ask, weapon?" Warrick repeated.

"She carries a firearm for her job, and she needs to secure it for the next…how long this time AB?"

"Twenty-four hours."

The three of them headed back into the crime lab to find Grissom.

**XOX XOX XOX XOX XOX**

Nick lightly rapped on Grissom's office door. "Gris?" he said, causing his supervisor to look up from the stack of paperwork that had kept him from leaving on time.

"Nick, I thought you and Warrick were headed home."

"We were, but I need to ask a favor." Nick led the three into the office. "This is my niece, Anabelle Stokes, and she needs to use our gun locker for a couple of days."

Grissom lowered his glasses and gave a stern glare. "Nick, you know we can't allow civilians to secure weapons in our lab." Then, giving AB the first real look, his expression became startled. "Especially not teenagers with weapons."

AB stepped forward and handed Grissom the envelope. He looked at her quizzically, but readthe paper insidewhile she unclipped her gun and laid it carefully on his desk.

"Not a problem at all, Ms. Stokes. How long will you be staying with Nick?" Grissom asked, as he signed the form that would allow her to secure it in the gun locker.

"A day, I'm due to arrive in California in a little over twenty-four hours by plane."

"May I asked why you stopped here?"

"Leave it to Grissom to get to the point, AB, cuz I was wondering the same thing." Nick said, leaning against a file cabinet.

"I didn't want Mom to freak out again."

All three men looked at her questioningly for a moment, before comprehension dawned on Nick's face. "You want to have a metamorphosis here? In Las Vegas? With me?"

"Metamorphosis? I'm pretty familiar with that process, Nick, and I've never seen a human manage to do it." Gris gave the two Stokes one of his "Supervisor" looks and waited.

Surprising everyone, AB lifted up one of the jars of insects sitting on Grissom's desk. "Dr. Grissom, have you ever watched a butterfly go through de-metamorphosis? Go from being something beautiful into an ugly caterpillar? No?" She glanced around. "Of course not, because most creatures are always becoming something more. It's not in their nature to degrade. But not humans, we can go from ugly to beautiful, and back to ugly again. And it's time for me to get ugly."

Nick let out a sigh and reached for her. "You promised last time was it…you weren't going to do this again."

AB allowed herself to be hugged. "I can't walk away from my job anymore than you can walk away from yours. I have less than a day to live a year's worth of me, so can we fight later? After a couple of shots?"

Warrick let out a chuckle, reminding them of his presence. "Nick, brother, lets get this girl to a bar, now that she's unarmed. I'm still not sure how we are going to convince the bouncer she's older than Greg."

"Older than me? Who's older than me?" Greg stuck himself into the office, pulling Sara in with him. "I was just walking past and heard my name, in connection with a bouncer, and was troubled. So, who's older than me?" His eyebrows shot up and he almost leapt into Sara's arms at the wolf-whistle that came out of AB.

"DAMN, Nick, they don't grow them that cute in Texas. Well, aside from you, of course." She confidently strode up to Greg and reached up to poke at his blond-tipped spikes. "Good morning Greg. I'm AB Stokes, and Nick and Warrick here are about to take me to a bar and get me drunk. Want to come along?" AB grinned mischievously.

"Uh, Nick?" Greg stuttered.

AB patted him lightly on the arm and strode out of the lab, Nick right behind her calling out, "Warrick, see you and whoever else wants to come at Katy's Tavern in an hour."

Warrick laughed, "Greg, close your mouth and come on. Sara, if you guys are comin', you all can ride with me, and I'll explain on the way. Gris, you in?"

"A bar, at nine in the morning?"

"This is Las Vegas, man, if you can't drink at nine am here, where can you drink at?"

**XOX XOX XOX XOX XOX**

They reached the parking lot in enough time to see Nick turn out onto the street and a tiny red Ranger pealing out behind him.


	2. Katy's Tavern

**Disclaimer:** Again, I don't own CSI or any characters, I own AB.

**A/N:** I heart my beta, forever.

**XOX XOX XOX XOX XOX**

Warrick, Greg, and Sara arrived in just enough time to see the two Stokes attempting to convince the doorman that AB's drivers license wasn't fake. AB reached into her back pocket and flipped open her wallet, but the CSIs view of what was inside was obscured when Nick turned around to them.

"Just in time, we had to drop our cars off at my apartment and grab showers before we caught a cab over here. Who drove ya'll?"

"I'm not drinking today, since I have to work tonight. Besides, someone's got to get Greggo home." Sara replied. The five headed into the bar and followed her lead to an empty corner with a table and an unoccupied pool table. Sara slid into a chair, and waited for everyone else to sit down.

"What will everyone have this morning?" questioned a cheerful waitress, with a nametag bearing the moniker _Sweetcheeks_.

Nick turned to look questioningly at AB.

"I want a half-pack of frosty worms, split." AB said, nodding at him.

"Split? Are you sure?" Nick asked.

"Frosty worms?" Greg queried.

Sara grinned and answered for the pair. "I believe she's asking for six shots, three of vodka and three of tequila. Correct?"

AB returned her grin. "You're even smarter than Nick bragged. No wonder he thinks you're hot. He always did have a thing for brains. CRAP! Nick, don't kick my shin. I obviously meant as a friend, geez. Besides, you told me she's in love with her boss. OW! DAMN IT NICK! LEAVE MY SHINS ALONE!" AB leaned over and lifted her leg, bracing her foot on Greg's chair, rubbing her shin absentmindly. "I mean really, that is strike one AND two."

Warrick turned back to the poor waitress and gave their order. "12 shots of tequila, 12 shots of vodka – top shelf, a coke, and an ice water, please." The waitress nodded her head and left for the bar.

"So, AB, tell us some juicy stories about Nick," asked Greg.

"Actually, I want to know more about why you're here, and what is this Metamorphosis thing," Sara interrupted.

"Fine," Greg sighed, rolling his eyes. "First about you, THEN juicy embarrassing stories about Nick."

"I don't mind talking about me, but I learned in High School embarrassing Nicky would not bode well for my life," grinned AB. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her wallet, flipping it open to her badge and laying it on the table. Everyone but Nick leaned in to get a good look.

"DEA?" Warrick finally spoke.

"I work undercover. My specialty is high school and college. It's amazing how many places the best friend of a suspect's daughter can go, that a grown man or woman can't. Unfortunately my assignments usually last 8-12 months and my mother freaks out when I have to change my appearance and leave her house not looking like her daughter. Since this is my last time, I thought it would be easier on her if I came out here and she didn't have to see the new me. It's hard enough on her when I can't even talk to her."

"You said last time was your last time, AB."

"I know, Nicky, but this time I promise. It's one, two semesters at the longest on a college campus, and I am the only one who can take this assignment. Then I'm done, I'll go back to Texas and make Gramma and Mom happy."

"So, you are here to alter your appearance?" Greg spoke up, trying to focus on something other than the shapely leg that was still propped up on his chair.

"Yep, that and squeeze in about a year's worth of AB fun into 24 hours. Hence the reason I came to Nick's."

"And here's your drinks, ladies and gentlemen," said Sweetcheeks as she carefully placed the shots in the center of the table and sliding the coke towards Sara who was waving her hand.

"Hey Nicky, why did the chicken cross the road?" AB asked, pulling a shot of tequila towards her.

"AB – body shots with my friends come later." Nick grinned at Greg, who was still trying to tear his eyes away from the leg that was attached to the body of the girl sitting very close to him. Warrick distributed the rest of the shots around the table, and tried not to think about what chickens had to do with body shots.

Four shots and an hour later the laughter from their little table could be heard throughout the rather crowded bar. AB's legs had managed to creep onto Greg's lap and he leaned over them to prop his elbows on the table, feeling rather protective and pleased that she was flirting with him so openly.

"Really, I knew Vegas was weird, but who would have though a bar would be this packed in the middle of the day?" AB said, before throwing back her fifth shot and placing the glass upside down on the pyramid she was creating in front of her.

"AB, I think you should slow down a bit," Nick said cautiously.

"Good idea, Nicholas, I think it's time to dance." AB swung her legs on the floor and grabbed Greg with both hands, backing up towards the dance floor and dragging him with her.

"AB! You may NOT take out your sexual frustrations on Greg. He's not a plaything." Nick shouted after her.

Greg swung his head around, the rest of him being led towards the crowd, and yelled, "Hell yes she can! Shut your mouth, Nick!" Then turned back to AB with a slightly softer, "Ignore him, I am totally a plaything."

**XOX XOX XOX XOX XOX**

**_It goes 1 by 1 even 2 by 2  
Everybody in the club gon be rockin when I'm through  
Let the bass from the speakers run through ya sneakers  
Move both ya feet and run to the beat_**

Greg was pleasantly surprised by how well AB could move, her chest close to his, but always just a fraction of an inch away from touching. He had some rhythm, but it was growing harder to ignore the self-confident woman who was dancing so close. His eyes wandered from her low rise jeans up to the jewel in her navel that would sparkle when she raised her arms above her head, lifting her soft heather-green silk top. Greg let his sight travel up farther, not lingering on her smaller than average chest, not because he didn't like the sight, but it did seem a little weird with Nick sitting less than 50 feet away. A tiny silver cross hung around her neck on a silver chain, laying softly on her breastbone.

**_Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me  
Don't cha wish your girlfriend was a freak like me  
Don't cha, don't cha  
Don't cha wish your girlfriend was raw like me  
Don't cha wish your girlfriend was fun like me_**

She danced with her eyes closed, her long hair swinging back and forth, her mind focused on the music, yet her body was very aware of where it was in proximity to Greg's. He took the opportunity to study her face, becoming aware of the total lack of makeup other than a shimmer of gloss on her lips and the multitude of freckles that danced over her nose and cheeks. He wavered between wanting to kiss each tiny brown dot, memorizing the pattern and wanting to beg her to let him connect them like a child's puzzle. Greg wondered if a Crayola thin-line washable marker would work. A loud, harsh voice jerked him back to reality.

"Get your hand off my ass."

"Uh, AB, my hands are right here," Greg said, waving his hands in front of her face.

"I know where your hands are, I was speaking to the oaf behind us." AB replied, turning around on her heel.

A large, rather intoxicated frat-boy stood behind them leering. "Come on, babe, lose the geek and dance with me," spoke the idiot, grabbing AB's right arm.

"Let me go, or I will break your hand," AB stated in a very matter of fact voice.

"Please, let her go, and leave us alone," Greg said, attempting to keep the chances of a bar fight to a minimum.

"What you going to do if I don't?" challenged the drunk. "Fight me, you scrawny little nerd?"

"He won't need to break a sweat. Let. Me. Go." AB repeated, remaining very calm.

"Letting the little lady fight your battles?" chuckled the man, before screaming in pain when AB's knee met his groin. It happened so quickly that no one on the dance floor saw exactly how her leg came up and knocked him flat on his back or how she got one boot on his right hand, and the other boot hovering over his throat.

"Apologize to him, now." AB said. "Then apologize to me, then get to a doctor to set your hand." She gave her boot heel a twist, the crunch of bones giving both the drunk and Greg a nauseous look. "I said, let me go or I will break your hand. Perhaps next time you'll listen when a lady speaks."

**XOX XOX XOX XOX XOX**

_Meanwhile…_

Nick, Warrick, and Sara were heavy into a game of pool, Nick resting on the table with the stick in his hand, catcalling to Warrick in between stories.

"Ya'll remember when I came back from Texas last Christmas with the black eye? And I said it was from a horse? That was AB, the last time I made it to strike three in one day. That girl is a spitfire."

"Is there anything your cousin can't do?" asked Sara.

"Well, she can't swim, can't play pool, can't keep her mouth shut, and holy mother of God…."

Warrick and Sara looked at Nick's face, then turned to follow his gaze. From the other side of the bar they could see Greg with a shocked look on his face, and a tall brown-haired guy with his hand on AB's arm. Before Nick could move he saw the guy go down, and took off through the crowd, Warrick and Sara close behind. He got to her in enough time to hear her demand an apology.

Placing both hands carefully on AB's shoulders he leaned in to her ear. "AB, it's Nick, let him go sweetheart."

"When he apologizes, not a moment sooner."

"AB, darlin, bar security is on their way over, let's let him stand up."

"Yes, please," squeaked the guy on the floor, forgotten by Greg until that very moment.

"Oh, this is great, come on AB, he's going to spend the rest of his college years living down how he got beat up in a bar by a girl," giggled Greg.

"Fine," she sighed, removing her boot from his neck and the other from his hand, turning around to stalk back to their corner.

AB stood by the table, throwing back her last shot, and completing her pyramid. "Ya'll stay and finish your pool game, I'm going to grab a cab back to Nick's."

"You aren't going back alone, hold on and let me pay the waitress," said Nick.

AB wearily nodded her head and sat backward in a chair, waiting for Nick to finish. "Hey, Greg, where can a girl find funky hair dye in Las Vegas?"

Greg perked up. "When did you need it?"

"Tonight, when Nick leaves for work. I'm going to go back to his place and crash, then wake up when he gets up and spend tonight taking care of my change."

"Tell you what," Greg replied, an evil genius plan formulating in his head, "I'm off tonight, and so I'll swing by Nick's around time for him to leave for shift and show you where to find what you need."

AB gave him a small smile and stood up.

"AB, you ready? There's a cab out front."

"Coming, Nicky," she said, then leaned down and whispered into Greg's ear, "See you about nine tonight?" Her lips lightly kissed his cheek and she turned to follow Nick out of the bar.

Warrick leaned over and used two fingers to close Greg's mouth. He and Sara didn't even try to contain their laughter. Sara patted Greg on the shoulder, motioning for them to follow her to the exit.

"Man, you got it bad considering you just met."

"She's, she's perfect, exactly like I thought a female Nick would be like."

"You've actually THOUGHT about what a female Nick would be like?" Warrick questioned.

"I refuse to answer that question on the grounds that no matter what I say you won't truly understand."

"Greggo, we love you, but we've never truly understood you," grinned Sara as she led the men outside and towards home and their respective beds.

**XOX XOX XOX XOX XOX**

_song credits_: Rhianna "Pon de Replay" and The Pussycat Dolls "Don't Cha"


	3. Spiky Mike's

**Disclaimer**: I don't own it.

**A/N**: I luv my beta.

* * *

Greg stood in his bedroom closet and rummaged through the shirts. How could he be nervous about what to wear? This wasn't a date, hell, it was really just an errand. Technically he was only going to drive her to one store then come home, but if his plan worked… 

Greg let out his secret comic book evil genius laugh, the one he practiced in the shower, and in the car on the way to work, and at work when no one was around. He was working on an evil genius smirk and evil genius eyebrows, but those required a mirror, so they were taking longer.

He had settled on the standard Greg-baggy-but-not-really-baggy jeans, and was searching for just the right band t-shirt to wear. He had thrown his Green Day shirt on the floor on top of his Rage Against the Machine shirt, and finally settled on a long sleeve black tee with a silver NIN across the front. He slid it over his head as he wandered back into the bathroom, and squirted a handful of BedHead gel into the palm of his hand, humming as he spiked up the ends.

Greg slipped on his sneakers, grabbed his keys and headed to Nick's house.

**XOX XOX XOX XOX XOX**

Greg pulled into the driveway at 8:40 pm and tried to decide if he should wait, or just arrive 20 minutes early. Feeling rather silly, since he had spent many an evening at Nick's, he decided to just go on up and knock.

"Hey there, Greggo, we were just finishing breakfast. Want some coffee?" Nick asked as he swung open his front door. Greg nodded and entered Nick's home, dropping his keys in the dish next to the door. He could see into the kitchen area, and could barely speak at the sight of AB, sitting cross-legged in one of the dining table chairs, her long hair still damp and hanging down her back, a slight curl to it. Her nose was buried in the paper, but at the sound of their footsteps she looked up.

"Hey there, sexy, have pleasant dreams?" she flirted as she stood up, moving to pour herself another cup of coffee. Greg remained glued to the floor, staring at the legs coming out the bottom of a long grey sweatshirt, one that Greg knew was Nick's old fraternity shirts.

"Please tell me she has something on under that," he choked out to Nick.

In response she lifted the back of the shirt, reveling a pair of short black cheerleading shorts that disappeared again when she dropped the hem. AB grinned as she turned around to face the guys, the coffee mug grasped in both hands and hovering right next to her lips.

"I'm going to go get dressed. I love you, Nicky, and I'll swing by the lab before I leave to grab my gun and say goodbye."

She sauntered up the stairs with her coffee mug, humming to herself.

Nick turned to Greg and rested his hand on his buddy's arm. "It's not going to be easy tonight. So when you finish shopping you might just want to drop her back off here and leave quickly. Call me if she breaks down or you need me. Actually, call me no matter what, okay?" Nick's worried look touched Greg.

"Nick, I won't leave her alone unless I have too, don't worry, it's the Greggo!"

Nick let out a small chuckle and headed out the door. "Have fun tonight, Greg."

"I will, oh, I will," said Greg as he plopped himself down on the couch to wait for AB to come back downstairs.

**XOX XOX XOX XOX XOX**

He didn't realize he had dozed off until he felt the coffee cup gently being pried from his fingers.

"Good thing you finished that, Nick would have killed you if you spilled it on his sofa." AB smiled and carried the cup to the kitchen sink. "You ready to go?"

Greg shook his head to clear the cobwebs and nodded. "Ready and waiting. Hey, why don't you just grab your things and you can come over to my place after we go shopping," he asked casually, trying not to let her see how much he wanted her to agree.

"You don't mind? It's going to be pretty messy, hair dye and all."

"My first year in college I changed my hair color every other month, I was down to every four months when I started working at the lab. My apartment has seen worse, trust me."

AB grabbed the large square bag by the front table and scooped up Greg's keys. She threw them in the air, and he caught them in his left hand, and followed her out the door.

**XOX XOX XOX XOX XOX**

The drive to Spiky Mike's was pleasant, the conversation steering away from any serious topics, Greg trying to get ammunition to use on Nick and AB thwarting him at every turn.

"Give it up, Greg, I'm not going to get myself in trouble with Nicky. Besides, he was the resident golden boy, the baby of the family. As close to perfect as a Stokes can get," she giggled after his last attempt at securing information.

"Fine, then tell me something about you," he countered, poking her in the thigh with his right hand. She wrinkled her forehead in concentration, her freckles dancing around her face and causing Greg to remember his connect the dots desire. It wasn't until she turned to look at him with a giggle that he realized he had voiced it out loud.

"You want to what?"

"Connect the dots? With a marker?" he replied, blushing just a bit. Luck being on his side, he managed to pull into Spiky Mike's parking lot and he was able to divert her attention to the store in front of them. "This is the best place in town to buy what you're looking for," he said pointing to the double window displays of black leather clothes and band signs.

AB's eyes grew wide in anticipation, and she practically leapt out of the car, dragging Greg into the store. A very blonde girl behind the counter turned to look at the door when the chime announced their presence. Swinging her head around, strawberry red streaks became visible and she let out a "yo – Greg" before turning back to reading her magazine.

"Hey, Cindee, where's Mike?"

Not even raising her head, she responded, "out, with his girlfriend." He nodded and tugged on AB's arm, pulling her to the hair products section.

Greg squinted his eyes in thought, staring at the choices, while AB alternated her staring between the dye and the boy. He finally reached out for a jar, and was surprised to hear her sigh when he turned to hand it to her.

"What, you don't like my selection?" He said, handing her the Manic Panic Black and Blue color. "I was thinking if you did streaks of Enchanted Forest it would be really cool. I always had a thing for streaks."

AB removed a jar of the dark green color off the shelf and held the two of them in her hands, debating to herself. Then nodding in agreement, she gave Greg what he considered to be perhaps the most beautiful smile in the world. Lost in his own dorky thoughts, it took a couple of tries for AB to bring him back.

"Greg, I need you to pick out clothes, grab what you can in my size, I have a pretty nice budget this time. I'll look over them when I'm done over there."

"Clothes, right, I forgot how much I love shopping!" He exclaimed with a maniacal evil genius laugh.

AB raised her eyebrows, but then figured it was better not to ask questions. She moved to the footwear section, and began to try on shoes.

**XOX XOX XOX XOX XOX**

Thirty minutes later, she walked her four new pairs of shoes (three pairs of boots, and a rather nice black leather, strappy pair of heels) up to the counter. She was amazed by the pile of clothes awaiting her. Greg was helping Cindee take everything off hangers and neatly fold them, stacking and sorting as he went. AB dumped the boxes next to the register and began to flip through the tags.

"Greg? That's amazing! You nailed everything dead on. How on earth?"

A rather smug grin accompanied his answer. "You were easy. Size two – longs for pants because of your boots, extra small tops, and I'm betting your shoes are a six and a half."

"And this?" she asked, holding up a black lace bra. His smirk went from smug to sheepish.

"Lucky guess?"

She grinned and dropped it back into the pile.

A few minutes later AB and Greg left the store carrying two large bags apiece, involved in an animated discussion about best lead singers of all times.


End file.
